She's Got Legs
by Ceceila
Summary: Sam and Dean have lived through some of the worst things imaginable. But all that they have experienced couldn't have prepared them for Chelsy Roberts. When Bobby's niece joins their battle against evil, they learn the meaning of the phrase hell on legs.
1. Jailbird

**Author's Note: This is my first Supernatural FanFic, so no getting snippy with the reviews. And Flames help no one. I won't write better because of them. In fact, I will probably write worse on purpose just to piss off whoever wrote the flame.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, Sam or Dean Winchester or Bobby. I only own the girl. If I owned the Winchester boys, I would be doing other things with my time, if you catch what I'm saying...**

Sam woke to the sound of a phone ringing. He groggily pawed around the nightstand in between the two full beds in the decrepit motel room. The side of his hand connected with a buzzing, moving rectangle and he attempted to grab hold of it. Instead he succeeded in knocking it to the floor. "Dammit," he muttered as he heard the phone hit and break into pieces. He rolled onto his back and pushed himself up to rest on his hands. Turning on the flickering lamp, he kicked his legs over the side of the bed and his left foot landed on a piece of the phone. Looking down he saw the face-plate. He picked it up and got on all fours to find the rest of the phone. After a few minutes he found all the pieces except the most crucial. "Always the battery," he muttered to himself. Finally he found it, halfway under the bed. He stretched his long arms to the fullest and was only a few inches short. He cursed under his breath as he tried to stretch his fingers the remaining inches. This is how Dean found him, his head, arm and the top left half of his torso under the bed, muttering to himself like a crazy person.

Dean kicked the door to let it slam shut behind him, causing Sam to jump and shout more curses. "What the hell are you doin', Sammy?" Sam pushed himself from under the bed and sat against the nightstand, rubbing at the knot that was forming at the base of his skull.

"I dropped my phone and it broke. The battery is still under the bed," he explained.

"So you thought you would just reach your freakishly long arms under the bed and reach it that way, when you could just as easily have done this?" Dean kicked at the bed and moved it over so that he could bend down and reach the battery. He picked it up and held it out to his brother. When Sam reached for it, he snapped his hand back and put the battery in his shirt pocket.

"Dean, what the hell? Give it back!" Sam shouted as his brother have a sardonic laugh and walked to the small kitchenette in the room, deposited the six pack he just purchased. "Dean," Sam said with a falsely calm tone and came to stand behind the hunched over form that was his brother. "Give it back," he said, voice shaking, and held out his hand for the battery.

"Nah-uh," he said simply. "If you're to stupid to have gotten the thing from under the bed then you don't deserve it."

"Someone was calling me, Dean. What if they try and call back? What if it was important," he tried to reason. His brother took one of the beers out of the fridge and popped the cap off, took a deep pull from the bottle. He shook his head.

"It was Bobby. He wants us to go and pick up his niece." Dean shrugged.

"Bobby's got a niece?" Sam was flabbergasted. They never heard a word about Bobby having a niece in all the years they had known him. "Where?"

Dean gave Sam a smile to show his amusement as he said, "County jail. Picked up on an assault charge," he explained and took another pull from his beer.

"And we're supposed to do what? Bail her out?"

"No, let her rot for the rest of her life." Sam raised his brows. "Yes, we bail her out! Stupid," he added under his breath.

"What was that," Sam asked and took a threatening step toward his brother.

"I said get dressed. Unless you want to go in your Pjs?" Sam sighed as he walked to his duffel and pulled out a set of clothes.

Ten minutes later they were on the road to the jail and another fifteen found them pulling into the parking lot. "So, what are we? Detectives from another state, looking to get her on another, more pressing charge?"

"_We_ aren't anything. _I _am going to bail her out, _you_ are going to stay here." Dean looked about to object when Sam explained. "You had that beer in the room, your breath smells like it, they won't let you have her." Dean let out a huff.

"Fine, but make it snappy!" Sam rolled his eyes and got out of the car, letting the door slam behind him. "Hey, easy on the car. Asshole," he muttered.

Sam walked into the jail and came back fifteen minutes later with a small girl with dark hair and milky white skin. He opened the door for her and she slid smoothly into the backseat. She sat with a smug smile as she fingered a blood stain on her white camisole. She looked up to see Dean watching her out of the rear-view mirror. "What." she asked innocently. Dean shook his head and started the car, backed out of the parking space. They road for a few miles with nothing but the radio to keep them from total silence.

"So, you're Bobby's niece, huh," Sam asked, trying to make conversation. She nodded, a calculating look on her face.

"Yeah, for the last nineteen years," she said coolly. Sam gave a nervous laugh. "Thanks for coming to get me, by the way," she said with a small smile.

"No problem," Dean said easily. He gave her a smile through the mirror and she nodded, turned back to Sam.

"I hope you guys didn't go through any trouble."

"Nah, it was fine, really. Besides, you're practically family. Family sticks together," Sam assured her. He noticed her frown in the mirror. "What's wrong?" He turned to look at her fully. She shrugged and shook her head. She leaned forward to speak to Dean.

"If you turn here, we can get to my car," she said and pointed to the left. Dean nodded and turned left at the red light. He continued to follow her directions until they came to a shady looking bar. He pulled into a parking spot and turned to speak to her.

"Where are you stayin'? We'll follow you, make sure you don't get into any more fights." He winked at her scowl.

"I'm staying with a friend. It's a five minute drive, I'm sure I can handle it," she said as she climbed out of the car and slammed the door behind her.

"Easy," he called after her and she gave a dismissive wave over her shoulder. They watched her disappear down an alley and Sam turned to his brother.

"What are we gonna do? Follow her?" Dean nodded.

"We didn't bail her out for her to get herself into more trouble, did we?" Sam shook his head and turned to watch the entrance to the alley. A few moments later they heard the roar of an engine and saw head lights. A second later a fiery red muscle car came barreling out of the alley like a bat out of Hell. Sam caught a glimpse of milky white skin through the open window and nodded to Dean that it was her. Dean put the car in gear and took off after her.

They followed her past the road to their own seedy motel and through some of the more less respectable parts of the town. After about twenty minutes they saw the red of brake lights and pulled over to the side of the road behind her. She got out the car, leaving the engine running and the door wide open, walked to Dean's side of the Impala and knocked on the window, hard. Dean rolled his down and smiled up at her innocently. "Something wrong, officer," he asked.

"What do you think you're doing?" She crossed her leather clad arms across her narrow chest and stood straight as a rod.

"Just making sure you don't get into anymore trouble, like I said I was gonna do." Her face remained blank as she leaned into the open window and got into his face.

"Go back to your motel and leave me alone. I don't want to see anything but tail lights out of you again." Her voice was deadly calm and her face showed no emotion whatsoever but he could detect the hint of a threat.

"And if I don't?" He quirked an eyebrow. A second later he heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked from behind the cover of the door. Sam raised his brows and leaned closer to Dean to whisper in his ear.

"Let's just go, Dean. If she gets into trouble, she gets into trouble. It's not our problem." Dean nodded at his brother and put the car into reverse.

"Fine," he said to the angry teen. "Have it your way, but when you get arrested, don't have your uncle call us. We'll let you rot." With that he floored the gas and kicked up a wall of dirt.

On their way back to the motel, Dean fished out the battery to Sam's phone and through it at him, hitting him in the head. "Ow, Dean, what the hell?" He touched his forehead gingerly and put the battery into his phone, turned it on. He saw he had one new voice message and knowing it would be from Bobby and what it would say, he hit delete and put the phone in his jacket pocket. He looked over at Dean and saw he had his phone out and pressed against his ear. "Who are you calling?" Dean looked at him in a way that said 'shut up' and back to the road. A second later he began speaking.

"Bobby, hey. Listen, your niece is one crazy girl."

"Aw, Christ. What'd she do now," he growled on the other end.

"Well, we tried to follow her home to make sure she stayed out of trouble, like you asked. But instead of going home, she took led us to a dead end road and pulled a gun." Bobby sighed heavily on the other end of the phone.

"That girl…" he ground out through clenched teeth. "I'll have a talk with her. And don't be surprised if you see her at your door tomorrow."

"I'd rather not. Hey, how come you never told us you had a niece? Just outta curiosity."

"Need to know, kid. I'll have a talkin' to her, don't you worry about that," he said. Then as if it were an after thought he asked, "How's the case comin'?"

"Wrapped it up a few hours ago, we're leavin' bright and early tomorrow morning."

"Good." With that, he hung up the phone and they went into deep conversation about the crazy, gun-toting teen that was Bobby's niece.

Seconds after he got off the phone with Dean, Bobby dialed another, more familiar number and listened as the phone rang. It only rang once, as was usual before a cool voice answered. "Hello?"

"Chelsy Ayn Roberts, what the hell is wrong with you," Bobby all but shouted into the mouth piece of his cell phone. He could imagine his niece cringing at the harshness of his voice on the other end of the line and he smiled a little inside.

"Heeey, Uncle Bobby," she said evenly. "How's it going?"

"Don't you 'hey, Uncle Bobby' me! What's this I hear about you pulling a gun on those boys?" She frowned, thoroughly confused by his question.

"They were following me. Didn't you always tell me that it was dangerous to have someone follow you, hunter or not?"

"I asked them to follow you to make sure you stayed out of trouble, you jackass!" Chelsy raised her eyebrows as she put the kettle on the stove of her hotel room.

"How was I supposed to know? I may be a lot of things, Uncle Bobby, but a mind-reader, I am not."

"Yeah, well I expect you to get your tail over to those boy's motel room first thing in the morning and apologize to them for threatening to kill them, you got me?"

"Yes, Uncle Bobby."

"And, you are gonna offer them your services, to help make up for what you did," he added. Chelsy quirked a brow at his order as the kettle began to whistle. She walked over and pulled it off the stove, poured the boiling water into a mug and placed a bag of green tea into it before answering.

"You want me to whore myself out to them," she deadpanned as she steeped the tea.

"No, you ninny! Your hunting services. Those boys got Hell on their asses and they could use the extra help. _You_ are going to be that help, understand?"

"Yes, Uncle Bobby. I understand."

"Good! Now, when is your court date?" Chelsy smiled mischievously to herself as she answered.

"I managed to weasel my way out of it," she said.

"I'm not gonna ask. I'd rather not know what you did to get out of it. You just make sure your ass is knocking on their door, first thing tomorrow morning. Got it?"

"Got it. Love you, Uncle Bobby."

"I love you, too, kid. Though for the life of me, I don't know why," he added under his breath. Then he said, "you behave yourself, hear," loud enough for her to catch.

"Gotcha," she said and hung up. She stirred her tea for a moment the picked up the mug and flung it at the wall, smashing the ceramic and chipping the plaster.


	2. Talkin' Shit

Sam and Dean woke simultaneously to what sounded like an entire S.W.A.T. unit attempting to break down their motel door. They gave each other questioning looks and both drew guns. Cautiously they made their way to the front of the room and Dean stood, hand outstretched to open the door, gun ready at his side. Sam went to the window and at Dean's nod he jerked the curtain back an inch. He saw a woman with her back to them wearing what appeared to be very expensive jeans and a tailored leather jacket. In his opinion, the jeans fit whoever she was quite nicely, showcasing her voluptuous bottom expertly. Her dark brown hair was spiraling down her back and stopped just below her shoulder blades. He willed her to turn so he could find out who she was and she did. The face he saw stopped any dirty thoughts he might have had in their tracks. Sam nodded to Dean and he pulled the door open to see Chelsy standing there smoking a light tan cigarette. She blew smoke in his face and he waved it away as Sam stepped behind his brother.

"Hey boys," she said with a wide, fake smile. "You gonna let me in?" Sam shook his head.

"Hell no!" Her eyes bored into Dean's as he stood his ground after his exclamation.

"Why not?" Her face showed real curiosity. "What did I do to you?"

"You pulled a gun on us last night! Why would we let you in? So that we have no witnesses when you try again? Fuck that!" Chelsy scowled and shook her head.

"I wasn't going to shoot you guys. Do you know what Bobby would do to me if I shot you boys? I'll tell you," she said as they both opened their mouths to answer. "He wouldn't kill me, that's for damn sure. But he would make me wish he did." She took a drag off of her cigarette. "Now are you gonna let me in or not?" Dean moved to let her in. She nodded as she moved passed him and brushed against Sam. "You guys got an ashtray around here," she asked and held up her cigarette which had excess ash at the tip. "Eh, they won't notice," she said without waiting for an answer and flicked the ash onto the threadbare carpet.

"What are you doing here," Sam asked briskly. Chelsy watched him with grey eyes through the haze of smoke. After a moment Sam looked away. She walked to the sink and put the spent cigarette down the drain. Leaning against the counter, ankles and arms crossed she broke the silence that filled the room.

"Bobby wanted to me to come by and apologize and to offer you both my services as a hunter." The men were silent a moment before Dean barked out a laugh.

"You're a hunter" he asked incredulously. "Please," he scoffed. "If you're a hunter then I'm a friggin' five year old girl." Chelsy raised her dark brows.

"And you are a very pretty girl, too." Dean shot her a dirty look. "Listen, I'm just doing what Bobby asked," she said holding up her hands in a peace making gesture. "If you guys don't want my help, fine. I can leave, just say the word."

"Leave," Dean said quickly and Chelsy shrugged and started for the door. Sam glared at his brother and reached out a hand to grab Chelsy around the arm to stop her and when he did so he saw that his hand wrapped completely around and even overlapped.

"Stay," he said softly. "We do need you, he's just stubborn. I'll have a talk with him." Chelsy looked at Sam then at Dean and back again. Finally she shrugged her narrow shoulders.

"Fine. I couldn't care less either way. But make it snappy," she hissed. Sam nodded and let go of her arm.

He walked across the room to stand between the beds and jerked his chin at Dean, indicating that he should join him. With one last dirty look for Chelsy he joined his brother. She rolled her eyes at him and left the room to give them their privacy and also to make a call and smoke another cigarette.

"Sam, what the hell do you think you're doing? Telling her to stay! C'mon, what is she gonna do for us other than gum up the works?" He shook his head angrily.

"Dean, the gate to Hell is _open._ As in things can come and go as they please, and they all want a piece of our ass. We need any kind of help we can get at this point," Sam reasoned.

"She isn't gonna be much of a help to us, Sam. You know what she's gonna be? Trouble, that's what. She's one of those loose cannons. She'd go into a case, guns blazing and end up getting hurt or something and then we would have to spend valuable time saving her skinny little ass!"

"How do you know that until we give her a chance. I mean, she _is _Bobby's niece. I'm sure she knows what she's doing. And I'm sure he's trained her better to go in crazy like that." Dean didn't look convinced. "Let's just give her a chance."

"Fine. But if it doesn't work, we're leaving her in whatever Podunk town we're in at the time, got it?" Sam nodded.

"Got it." Dean began packing his things.

"Tell her to get her shit together," he said over his shoulder when Sam started for the door. Sam waved behind himself vaguely and left the room.

"…don't want me, Uncle Bobby," Chelsy said quietly into the phone as she took another drag off of her cigarette. When she heard the door close she looked and saw Sam standing there, waiting patiently until she got off the phone. She nodded in acknowledgment of his presence and raised two fingers, cigarette held between them, telling him she'd be a minute. She turned away from him and continued to listen to her uncle. "Well, what do you want me to do," she asked, exasperated. "Get on my knees and beg them to take me with them? Fuck that!" Sam cleared his throat behind her. "Hang on, Uncle Bobby," she said into the phone. "What," she asked him impatiently.

"Dean and I agreed that we would give you a chance and take you with us." Chelsy nodded.

"I'll call you back, Uncle Bobby." She hung up the phone and looked back up at him. "Go on." Sam took a step closer to her.

"We're going to give you a chance. _One_ chance," he emphasized. "Got it?" She nodded. "'Means no waving your gun around, no getting into fights at bars, no getting arrested if it's avoidable." Again, she nodded her understanding. "You listen to us, got it? You do what we say, when we say it. We say jump, you say how high, basically." She heaved a heavy sigh, but nodded. "And please. No more taunting Dean. He's a dick enough as it is without you pissing him off with a smart comment." She opened her mouth to object and Sam silenced her with a glare.

"Fine," she said through her teeth. "But he better not start any shit with me." Sam nodded.

"He won't, I'll make sure."

"Right. Because if he does you could just step on him with your giant's feet?" Sam glared down at her.

"Listen, you said not to taunt Dean. You didn't say I couldn't do it to you." He opened his mouth to retort then closed his mouth, think better of it.

"Do you have you things packed?" She shook her head. "Well go and get them packed, we leave in twenty minutes, with or without you." Chelsy nodded and walked to her car. Sam raised his brows when he saw that it was the shiny, fiery red car from the night before. "That yours?"

"No, I stole it," she said with a grin. He laughed and her grin faded. "What?"

"You didn't steal that car," he said. She smirked. "You stole that car?"

"Well, sort of." He gave her a questioning look and she shook her head. "I'll tell you about it later." She opened the door and ducked her head to slide in. Slamming the door securely, she revved the engine and backed out of the space. She turned left to leave the lot but before she did, she rolled down the driver's side window. "See ya in a bit," she called and floored it out of the parking lot. Sam waved and watched the fifty-nine Impala drive off, top down, Chelsy's long curls blowing in the wind.

Exactly twenty minutes later, Chelsy came to the door of the motel room the brothers shared. They opened the door just as she was about to knock. "Hey, you made it," Sam said warmly. She smiled.

"And she brought a dog," Dean grumbled. "Perfect. Well, that thing ain't ridin' in my car."

"Like hell he's not. Where I go, he goes," Chelsy said and scratched the scruffy looking dog behind the ears. "And his name is Jack, not 'Thing'," she growled. Dean gave her a dirty look. "If you keep making ugly faces like that your face will get stuck that way," she said. "Not like it would make much of a difference," she added under her breath so that only she and Sam could hear as he had come to stand by her when she arrived. He snorted and she gave a small smile. "Are we gonna go or what," she asked loud enough for Dean to hear.

"We as in you, me and Sammy are going, sure. But that dog isn't going anywhere in my car," he said angrily.

"We'll see about that," she said and grabbed the dog by it's leash and pulled him along with her to the car. Opening the back door on the passenger side she gestured for the dog to get in. He barked excitedly and jumped inside, sitting in the middle of the seat like he was a king on a throne. Chelsy got in behind him and sat, smiling smugly at Dean through the windshield.

"Oh, hell no!" Dean moved toward the car angrily. He looked like he could kill her. Sam grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back.

"Dean, c'mon. It's just a dog. From what I can tell she's got him pretty well trained. What harm can he do?" Dean looked murderous.

"Don't! Don't even say that because as soon as you say things like that something bad always happens. And if anything happens to that car, I will kill both of you and sell the dog by the pound to a Chinese restaurant." Sam shook his head at his brother and walked to the car.

"I thought I said no taunting him," he murmured as he slid into the seat. Chelsy shrugged and rolled down the window so she could smoke a cigarette.

"He started shit," she stated as if it solved the matter. Sam was about to tell her off about it when Dean slid behind the wheel. He looked at Sam as though he had betrayed him for talking with Chelsy and looked at Chelsy with the dirty look she had come to expect in the less than twenty-four hours that she had known them.

"What are you two chit-chatting about," Dean asked as he turned back to the wheel.

"Just bullshittin'," Sam replied as he also turned back to face the front. Dean shot Chelsy a suspicious glare and was about to start the car when a flicking sound reached his ears followed by a faint metallic clink noise. He looked back to see Chelsy attempting to light a cigarette with a shiny Zippo lighter that had a bright green shamrock engraved into the bottom and a name that he couldn't read at the top.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? I don't want my car smelling like cigarettes," Dean said reaching back and took the cigarette out of her mouth.

"They smell like vanilla, don't worry about it," she said and took another out of her large black canvas tote. She lit it and blew the smoke in his face. "See? Vanilla." She laughed as Dean huffed and waved the smoke out of his face.

"Fine. And what the hell is this," he asked snatching the lighter away. Her expression turned murderous. "You aren't Irish." She leaned forward to try and snatch the lighter back from him.

"Give it back," she growled. Dean held it just out of her reach and laughed as her cheeks grew red and flushed with anger. "Give it back, dammit!"

"Why should I?"

"It belonged to a very close friend. Give it," she said and held out her hand.

"Right, like you have friends," he said with a laugh. He tossed the lighter to Sam. Sam caught it easily and shook his head at his brother as he turned and gave the lighter back to Chelsy.

"Thank you," she said and punched Dean hard in the shoulder. He grunted in pain and turned around, starting the car.

"Baby," he mumbled as he backed out of the parking lot. Chelsy put the lighter safely away in the tote and zipped it closed. She sat back and took a pull off of her cigarette and watched the scenery go by. As they were about to reach the town's limits she leaned forward to be heard over the blasting radio.

"Stop here," she said pointing to a gas station. "I need to pick up a few things." Dean pulled up to a pump and handed her a twenty. "What the hell do you want me to do with this?"

"Pay for gas," Dean said as if it were obvious. "Make it snappy, we don't have all day." She nodded and got out, walked inside the store without another look back. "What the hell are you doing, Sammy?"

"What do you mean," Sam asked, confused.

"With her, chit-chatting it up with her, giving her her lighter back? What, you got a crush or something?" Sam's cheeks flushed slightly.

"Nah, but someone has to be nice to her. I don't see what the big deal is," he said. "Why are you being like that to her? She didn't do anything. You act like she just killed your puppy or something." Jack whined as Sam said that and Sam reached a hand back to stroke the dog's head.

"I don't like her," Dean said simply.

"Why not?" Dean shrugged.

"I don't know, I just don't. I think she's going to be more trouble than she's worth. I mean," he said before Sam could interrupt. "We've known her for less than twenty-four hours and she's already got you wrapped around her little fingers." Sam shook his head and looked out the window to see the teen in question walking out of the store with two large paper sacks. "It's about damn time," Dean grumbled. "What did you do, buy the whole store?"

"What would I do with a broke down piece of shit store like that," she said nodding behind her. She smiled at Sam as he got out and opened the backseat door for her. "Thanks." She set the bags down on the floor and the rattling of glass bottles knocking together could be heard.

"What did you get," Dean asked trying to peek into the bag closest to him. Chelsy smacked his hand away.

"Necessities." She reached into the bag he had been looking in and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey. "Two bottles of Jack, twelve pack of beer, a carton of cigarettes, a few bags of hot fries, and a bottle of vodka." Dean nodded his approval.

"Maybe you're not so bad after all," he mumbled as he went to fill up the tank. Chelsy smiled as she reached into the bag and pulled out a small blue box. Thinking that it would be better to leave them in the bag for Dean to find later, she shoved the tampons in between the two bottles of whiskey with a smile on her face.


	3. When Midgets Attack

The three hunters and Jack the dog had been driving in relative silence for nearly an hour. The only noise came from the wind rushing in through the car's open windows, the brothers exchanging insults and the radio blasting it's customary classic rock. Chelsy had been sitting in the backseat making no noise except for the occasional flick-clink of her Zippo lighting a cigarette. Finally Sam turned to her with a smile on his face. "So, how about you tell us how you 'sort of' stole that car of yours?" Chelsy looked at him as if she had completely forgotten his and his brother's presence.

"What?"

"The car. Tell me about it. You said you would, later," he reminded. Chelsy nodded and flicked her spent cigarette out the window.

"I did, didn't I," she mumbled as she reached into her bag for an elastic headband. As she flipped her head to pull it back she began speaking, her muffled voice just loud enough to be heard over all the noise. "Well, I was on a job in Vegas a few months ago and got into a car crash. My car was toast and I was not about to go around the city conducting my business on foot. So, I forged some casino chips and did the old 'Barred Winner' trick on some guy. Ya know, told him that I won it big but that the casino thought I had cheated so they threw me out before I could cash in. I offered him some of the winnings if he would go in and cash the chips in for me and of course he said yes. Then I acted all suspicious and asked for collateral to make sure he came back with my money. He gave me his wallet and I checked to make sure there was cash in it. I sent him inside and left with his money. The guy was loaded pretty good. Had around 5k on him and the dumb bastard just gave it to me." She smirked at the memory. "Anyway, by the time the dude figured out that the chips were fake, I was in a taxi back to my room. The next day I bought the car at a police auction. A thousand bucks." She laughed maniacally. Jack looked at her before whining once and licking her face lovingly. The guys however, looked a little unsettled at the thought of being on the road with a con artist. "I picked him up in Vegas, too," she added as she rubbed Jack's exposed belly.

"You didn't feel bad about taking that guy's money," Sam asked. She shook her head, smiling down at the dog. "Not even a little?" She smirked.

"It's not like he didn't have more," she said in defense. Sam looked incredulous. "What," she asked, throwing her hands in the air. "The guy was rollin' in a Lexus, rockin' an Armani suit, for God's sake! He had enough money for the both of us." Sam shook his head as Dean smirked.

"Honey, you're starting to make me rethink my opinion of you," Dean said with a laugh.

"Yeah?" He nodded at her through the rearview mirror. "Well, you can think and rethink all you want about me. It don't make a fuck, in my book." Dean's amusement disappeared.

"Why are you so mean, kid? Huh?! What the fuck did the world do to you that was so bad you gotta take it out on me?" Chelsy looked out the window and took out another cigarette, lit it and smoked in silence. After about ten minutes, when her cigarette was gone and nothing to keep her mouth from running, Chelsy looked at Sam.

"I don't know what your problem is," she said conversationally. He turned to look at her full in the face, brow furrowed in confusion. "With me taking that guy's money in Vegas. It's not like you two don't do it." Sam looked to his brother for support.

"She's kinda gotta point, Sammy," he mumbled, reluctant to agree with her.

"You guys fund yourselves through fraud, just like I do. Only I'm more up front about it. So get off your damn high horse, or I'll knock you down." Sam opened his mouth then closed it again.

"Hmph," was his brilliant response.

"That's what I thought," she said smugly and stretched out on the seat as much as she could with the dog taking up half. Taking out her Ipod from her bag on the floor, she turned it to her favorite classical music play list and drifted off to sleep.

Four hours later she was being shaken awake by a large hand on her shoulder. Waking immediately, she shot out her right fist and caught Sam square in the jaw, knocking him off balance so that he landed on his backside on the gravel drive. She sat up and scrambled out of the car, knelt down beside him and stared at him with wide eyes as he massaged his jaw. "I am sooo sorry, Sam," she said, her hands fluttering helplessly around his face, wanting to help him but not wanting to do any more damage. "I forgot to warn you guys not to be too close if you have to wake me up. I'm sorry," she apologized again. Sam pushed her hands away and gave her a pained smile.

"It's okay. I'll just remember a helmet and protective gear the next time I have to wake you," he said and pushed himself to standing. She stayed kneeling on the ground, looking guiltily up at him. He held out a hand to help her stand and she accepted. He noticed the difference in sizes and laughed. She looked up at him inquiringly. "You're so little," he explained and held their joined hands out to her so she could see. His hand swallowed hers, being that it was nearly twice the size of hers. "It's like a baby hand," he said, amused. She scowled and snatched her hand out of his.

"No, my hands aren't tiny, nor am I. You are just freakishly large." She walked into the diner and sat next to Dean, pushing him to the wall.

"What's your problem," he asked as Sam joined them, sitting directly across from Chelsy with a silly grin on his face. Dean saw and attempted to put it all together. "Oh no, did Sammy kiss you?" Chelsy looked at him like he had grown an extra head. "And it was really bad, so now you're all pissed off and came to me for comfort, right?" Chelsy punched him in the shoulder. "God, Sam. We really need to get you some lessons."

"She's just pissed because she's a midget," Sam explained. Chelsy kicked him in the leg under the table and he laughed. "Even her kicks are too small to hurt."

"If you'll recall, it wasn't two minutes ago that my baby hands," she sneered, "were punching you in the face and making you roll on the ground in pain."

"Pft," was all he said.

"And," Chelsy continued, "I am not a midget. Again, you're just a freak." Sam shook his head as a waitress came over with their menus. They ordered their lunches and Dean picked up the conversation where they left off.

"The girl's got a point. You are pretty much a giant." Sam scowled as Chelsy smiled smugly.

"Yeah? Well you got big ears." Chelsy laughed out loud causing several people to turn. Dean scowled and popped her on the back of the head.

"You keep quiet, Short-shit," he growled. Chelsy quieted her laughter with great difficulty but managed to get it down to only a broad smile nonetheless. A few minutes later the waitress returned with their plates and the guys began eating like they were starved.

"You know," she began, "if you guys keep eating that way, you won't have to worry about demons getting you. You'll both die of heart attacks first." Sam shrugged.

"Yeah, because demons are always the better choice," Dean said sarcastically. Chelsy shrugged and continued to pick at her sandwich. The meal continued with the three bantering back and forth, mostly about Sam's size and Chelsy's.

"Whatever," she said as she stood to use the bathroom before the long drive. "Just because I'm not a ten-foot tall freak," she said and let the sentence hang as she departed. Dean laughed as Sam shook his head. The brothers left the restaurant to wait for her. After a few minutes she joined them, popping a piece of gum merrily as she went. "Okay ya'll, let's get this show on the road." She carried a small paper sack with her. "For Jack," she explained when she saw them looking at it.

"That dog better not make a mess," Dean warned as he got in behind the wheel. Chelsy rolled her eyes as she and Sam got in. Jack began jumping around the backseat happily as he saw her and started sniffing at the bag when she sat next to him. Opening the sack, she extracted a few greasy hamburger patties and set them on the seat for the dog's lunch. As the dog began to chow down, she realized that she now had grease all over her hand and nothing to wipe it clean. Suddenly inspiration hit her when she heard Sam ask where they were headed next. She leaned forward and wiped her hand on the collar of Sam's shirt. He whipped around in the front seat.

"What the hell do you think you're doing," he asked angrily and began twisting and turning to see what she wiped on him. She shrugged and gave him a dazzling smile.

"I had grease on my hands. What did you expect me to do? Leave it there?" He huffed and turned around, stripping off his shirt as he did. "Wow," Chelsy said taking in his plain white tee. "Who knew boring white could look so good?" Sam blushed as Dean shook his head.

_Damn kids, _he thougt as he turned up the radio to attempt to block out their flirting.


	4. Terms and Arrangements

Chelsy sat huddled against the car door with Jack's sleepy head cradled in her lap and her Ipod blaring, staring blankly out the window at the lack of passing scenery. Why these guys felt the need to take nothing but back roads, she had no idea. But it was staring to annoy her. She shifted her eyes to the front seat where Sam and Dean sat talking, hopefully about their next case. She wanted to see something, anything besides the stretch of empty road in front of them and the blank landscape outside the car. Also, while Sam was an okay guy, she wasn't sure if she could last another day with Dean in such cramped quarters. If she had to spend another day with him in the car, she thought she might do something rash and definitely do something that would cause Bobby to chew her a new one. As she petted Jack's head absently, she became aware that she was no longer looking at the back of Sam's head, but his face. She also became aware that her lips were moving. Chelsy had never been adept at reading lips, so she had to pause her song before asking him to repeat himself.

"I said, why don't you try looking for a case," he said.

"And be quick about it," Dean called from his place behind the wheel. "I can't deal with anymore of your cigarette smoke." Chelsy scowled at the back of his head and reached into her bag for a cigarette, lighting it out of spite rather than the need or want for a smoke. Sam shook his head at her while Dean mumbled angrily to himself.

"I don't have a laptop," she said. Sam nodded and disappeared behind the seat for a second while Dean began speaking again.

"How can you be a hunter on the road without a laptop?"

"It got broken, asshole. I haven't had the chance to replace it." Dean mumbled again and went back to just watching the road rather than trying to speak to her. Sam returned to her with his laptop and internet stick. Chelsy nodded her thanks and set to work. After a moment, she reached a thin hand to tap him on the shoulder. He turned and raised his brows in question.

"What's your password," she asked. Sam turned full around in the seat and bent over the seat so he could type on the keyboard. As his fingers touched the keys he looked up. Chelsy sighed but turned her head nonetheless so he could type in his password. "I don't know why you just didn't tell it to me," she said exasperatedly as she put in the stick and watched his homepage pop on screen. "I mean, it's not like I would steal it to look up porn or give you a virus or anything. Look through your private files."

"No," he said and jerked his thumb over his shoulder in Dean's direction. "But he would." Dean smiled and nodded.

"You're damn right," he said. Chelsy smiled and shook her head and after a few minutes they lapsed back into silence. Chelsy started her search in the surrounding towns but found no record of suspicious deaths, demonic signs or omens. As it began to grow dark outside, so did a new string of complaints from Dean, this set being about how the light from the computer screen was blinding him.

"Look here, Winchester," Chelsy started. Twenty minutes after he had started his complaining, she couldn't take it anymore, so she felt the need to set him straight. "I'm trying to do what's best for us all and find us a case before I'm forced to kill you for the sake of my own sanity. So it's either the glare or a bullet to the head, take your pick. Right now, I can go either way," she added and slipped her hand into her bag for her gun.

"Fine, but couldn't you try and situate yourself so that the light is elsewhere?"

"No." She tapped a few more keys as Dean mumbled something about bratty kids. "You don't like it, cry to someone who gives a fuck." Dean quieted down after a few more minutes.

After another hour at the computer, her eyes were beginning to burn from lack of blinking. She had just decided to give up when an article in a Jersey newspaper caught her eye. She read the selection and looked up with a smile on her face. The smile quickly disappeared when she saw only Sam in the front seat. "Where's Dean?"

"Inside, getting our room for the night," Sam said absently. Chelsy looked up at the shabby hotel's façade. Grimacing she sat back in her seat and huffed. Sam heard and looked back. "What's wrong?" Chelsy shrugged.

"I don't want to stay in a dump. Why can't you guys find somewhere else?"

"Sorry, princess, but that's not how it works. It's not so bad. It's a room, with four walls and a roof."

"Just the one room, though?" Sam nodded. "Right. I'll sleep outside I think." Sam gave her a look of confusion. "Look, I've spent all day with that man," she said gesturing toward the office. "No."

"No?"

"No, I am not staying with him. I swear I'm going to hurt him if I do."

"Aw, c'mon." Chelsy looked up with her bottom lip out in a pout. Sam tapped it with his finger. "Put the lip away, it won't work," he chastised lightly. Chelsy did as she was told, but still didn't look very happy. "He's not so bad, once he's asleep."

"He doesn't like me." She didn't make it sound like a question, nor did she mean it as one. Sam tried to think up something to say in reassurance, but finally gave up and shook his head with a sheepish smile.

"Give him time." Chelsy nodded.

"Right. Well, while he's taking his sweet ass time, I plan on sleeping outside." The back door opened on the driver's side and Dean stooped in to pick up the two paper bags full of Chelsy's purchases. She couldn't keep the smile off of her face.

"What are you smiling at?" Chelsy shrugged and tried to compose her face. "I heard what you said, and let me tell you. It can be arranged." She shrugged again. He scowled at her and tossed the room key at her. "Since you're sleeping outside, you can have the first shower." Chelsy scooped up her scattered belongings and the key and marched into the building, with her head held high and without a glance behind her. "That girl…" Dean let the thought trail off and mumbled to himself. "I swear, I think I might kill her," he finished.

"Funny. She said the same thing about you." He laughed at Dean's incredulous face. "The only difference is that I think she'd actually do it," he added seriously. It was Dean's turn to laugh this time, but when he saw his brother's face showing no amusement, he sobered quickly.

"Nah, you don't think that…" Sam nodded. "But I'm a hunter, and hunter's don't go around killing each other."

"Something tells me that she doesn't live by our rules." Dean shook his head as if his brother had said something completely insane. They walked into the building and up to their fourth floor room. Dean was surprised that the girl had left the door unlocked for them. He set the bags down on the small table in the kitchenette and walked back outside to get his bag. Sam sat down at the lumpy couch and set up his laptop on the coffee table. A moment later, Dean walked into the room with Jack and began unpacking his clothes for his shower and scowled when the dog made himself at home on Dean's chosen bed.

"What the fuck does this dog think he's doin'? Hey," he said to the animal and clapped his hands at him. "Get down, go on, git!" The dog shot him a dirty look and jumped down from the bed. He slowly made his way to Sam and nosed up to him.

"Dude, you're such a dick," Sam said as he petted the dog's head.

"What? Because I didn't want a mangy dog in my bed?" Dean shook his head and continued his unpacking.

"No, you've been a dick the whole day. To Chelsy."

"C'mon, Sammy, the girl is trouble."

"Why do you say that? She's given you no reason to think that?"

"Yes she has. The first time we met her it was to pick her up from jail, and less than twenty minutes after that, she pulls a gun on us. But no, she's not trouble at all." Sam shook his head and decided to drop the subject, but Dean wasn't going to have it. "I'll bet you're mad because I told her she could sleep in the car, too?" Sam sighed and rubbed his face.

"Kinda." Dean scoffed.

"C'mon, it was just a joke, it's not like I meant it. I wouldn't make her sleep in the car. And she would have to crazy to do that, anyway. Knowing what we know? She wouldn't do it, she was just being difficult, like I knew she would." Sam shook his head.

"I think she really would," he countered. "And I don't really blame her. I wouldn't want to sleep in the same room with the guy who made it clear that he didn't want me around. I mean, you have done nothing but make her uncomfortable. This whole day you haven't said two words to her unless it was a smart comment. Right now, I'd take sleeping outside over sleeping with you in here," Sam added.

"Fine, don't let me stop you." Dean walked to the kitchen table and started to dig into the bag with the whiskey. He stopped and turned back to his brother. "If you want me to be nice to your little girlfriend, then fine. But she better start being a little nicer to me, too."

"What? Dean, she's not my girlfriend." Sam shook his head incredulously.

"Ain't it funny how that's all you catch? C'mon, Sammy. I know you and I know when you got a little crush brewin'." Sam opened his mouth then closed it.

"No, I don't. I don't like her any more than a friend or fellow hunter." Dean scoffed.

"That little priss in there? That's no hunter, I can tell you that right now." Sam shook his head and decided again to drop the subject. A second later he was forced to look at his brother again, even though he didn't want to as Dean had let out a kind of strangled yell. Sam raised his brows at his brother's horrified face and got up to see what the matter was. Dean wordlessly pulled out a small blue box with two fingers and tossed it to Sam who caught it easily.

Suddenly the bathroom door opened to reveal Chelsy standing in a brief pair of sleep shorts and a tank top, hair dripping water on the carpet, a small silver throwing knife in her hand, ready to aim.

"What?" Dean started at her with horror and disgust on his face while Sam finally looked to see what was in his hands. He let out a loud, sudden laugh that had jack up and barking. Chelsy looked at them both, confused until she saw the box in Sam's hands. Then she smiled as she realized that her little prank had worked.

"Dude, it's just tampons. Don't be such a baby," Sam chided.

"Yeah, bro, seriously. Grow up," Chelsy said and walked over to Sam, plucking the box out of his hands. "Shower's open, by the way," she added with a jerk of her thumb behind her. "God, your brother is such a child," Chelsy said quietly as Dean shut the bathroom door behind him. Sam nodded his agreement. "I have to tell you that I planned that to happen, though." Shaking his head, Sam walked to the couch and flipped on the TV. Chelsy followed him and sat at the opposite end of the couch, stretched her legs out in front of her so her tiny feet rested on the edge of the table. Sam followed her movement with his eyes.

"You know you don't have to sleep outside, right," he asked while he took in the rest of her body, her long and shapely white legs, her small waist, narrow chest with small, perky breasts. He couldn't help it, he told himself. He didn't have a crush, he was just a guy.

"Eh…"

"Dean'll get over it once he sees that he can't scare you off," he said looking at her face. She shrugged and looked at the TV as she spoke.

"He might not scare me off, but that doesn't mean I'll stay. If he's gonna be a dick to me, why would I want to?" Sam nodded.

"Well, I talked to him and he said that there was the possibility of a truce." Chelsy quirked a brow.

"Oh?"

"He said that he would be nice if you would. But that you had to start it." Chelsy shook her head.

"No."

"Why not," he asked like a child who had just been told he couldn't have something.

"Because that's not how it works. I want an apology and a promise that he won't start in on me for little things, like he did with the computer earlier or my cigarettes all day." Sam thought a moment.

"I think we could work something out," he said finally. "But you aren't sleeping outside."

"And why is that?"

"Because I'm not going to let you," he said.

"Because you have a crush on me, you mean." Sam's cheeks flamed as he floundered and shook his head.

"Where did you come up with that," he asked finally. Chelsy smirked.

"Paper thin walls and a loud mouth can give you all sorts of information," she said. Sam shook his head. "Don't be such a child," she said as Sam opened his mouth to defend himself. "We're both adults here, just admit it."

"You-"

"Pussy," Chelsy said, cutting him off. He looked like she had slapped him. She laughed at his surprised face. "C'mon, let it out. Tell me how beautiful you think I am and how much you love me. C'mon, say it. Say it," she said more forcefully. Sam sighed and shook his head, turning his attention back to the TV. "I'm still staying outside," she added as the shower turned off in the bathroom. "And I'm taking this with me," she added, unplugging the laptop. She stood and walked to the door, sent Sam a wink over her shoulder and disappeared out the door. A few minutes later, Dean came out of the bathroom, hair wet, and no shirt. He looked around the small room.

"Where is she?" Sam shrugged and sighed exasperatedly.

"Outside." Dean shook his head as he walked to the bed closest to the door.

"That girl is crazier than I thought," he said as he plopped down on the mattress and pushed the dog over. "Why does this dog like me so much?"

"I don't know. It can't be your personality, that's for sure." He got up and walked to the bathroom for his shower.

"You gonna go and get her," Dean called through the closed door.

"I don't know," came Sam's muffled voice. "I should probably make you go and talk to her. By the way," he added as he poked his head out the door. "I told her what you said. She's got a few terms of her own."

"Like?" Sam shook his head.

"You can talk to her about it later," he said and pulled his head back into the bathroom, locking the door so that Dean wouldn't try coming in to continue the conversation. Dean shook his head as he laid back down on the bed, grumbling because the dog was taking up too much room.


	5. READ ME!

Bonjour, mes amis. I know it's been a while since I updated but I have good reason. I promise. And those reasons are:

1) I've had a lot of shit going on at the old homestead.

2) I've been packing because my mom got this brilliant idea to move. I don't know where we're moving yet. She seems to forget that I _HATE_ surprises.

3) I've been trying to distance myself from all my little creations so that I can update with better chapters. Doesn't seem to be working this time.

4) My aunt had a new, ugly-as-sin baby. And when I say 'ugly-as-sin', I'm talking Gremlin ugly. True story. So I've had to watch her during my free time from all the other bullshit going on.

5) My grandmother recently had to go to the hospital for some kind of heart problem. It sounded pretty serious. So when I wasn't packing, dealing with bullshit or watching Fuggles the Baby, I was doing a little happy dance and crossing my fingers, hoping for the worst. You may think it's wrong, but you've never met my grandmother. So until you do, I think you should all shut up and keep your "God, that girl's such a bitch" opinions to yourselves. That woman is evil, I swear it.


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